Welcome Back!
by outerelf
Summary: ...or not. Red Alert was rescued, but the Ark forgot one rather important detail. Like Starwaves sparkmate. Sequel to 'Replacement'
1. Chapter 1

Haha! He're's something I bet you all thought was gone! A sequel to 'Replacement'. I have had some trouble writing this, probably will continue to do so, so feedback on each chapter would be nice…

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Prime frowned at the mechs surrounding him. He had been summoned to a private meeting, something that set off his own warning signs in his CPU… "I'm here. What do you want?"

The mechs exchanged looks, clearly uncomfortable at what they were about to say. Then, the one who had suggested Red Alert be sent off in the first place took a deep breath and said in a rushed tone, "Wewanttocontinuetheexperiments."

Primes face could have been stone. "You _what_?"

"Prime, the decepticons had a very good idea on what to do with Red Alerts glitch. If we _can_ copy it, than the possibilities-"

Boom! The mechs broke off with a strangled squeak as Optimus Prime slammed his fist down on the table. His CPU was still haunted with the screams that sometimes arose from Red Alert from the short amount of time that he _had_ been experimented on. The screams were unlike any Prime had heard before. They weren't just screams of terror, but sorrow.

It apparently drudged up painful memories, for Infernos face would twist in sorrow as Red Alert would murmur names and places, begging them to do something. Prime never caught what it was. Then Inferno would drag Red Alert off to someplace quiet, where he would sooth Red Alert, only to have the cycle repeated a few orns later. Ratchet had told Prime that it was normal, and it wouldn't last for too much longer.

For which Prime was grateful. He didn't know if he could take any more of the senseless begging and terrified optics.

Primes gaze beat down upon the squirming mechs, but they seemed determined to have their say. "Optimus Prime, please, just think. If we duplicate the glitch, and place it in our own army, we'll be unbeatable."

"At what price? There would be no way to pull the glitch out, after deliberately implanting it. All of their children will be glitch free certainly, but what about they themselves?"

He took a deep breath, reminding himself to calm down. "No."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Inferno looked at Prime, feeling exhausted. The recent bout of deep and extreme fear had lead Red Alert to start attacking. And while he would never attack Inferno, the other mechs were not so lucky. However, the worst of it had seemed to pass, for they hadn't heard any screaming yet. "Ratchet, what's causing him to be like this?"

"The machines broke down his normal defenses to his glitch. It's surging in despite what few walls he has up, and when he does-" Ratchet sighed heavily. "As soon as he stops screaming on a regular time pattern bring him to me and I'll see what more I can do, but unfortunately it's up to Red Alert to make his recovery at this point."

Inferno nodded and left. The second the fire truck was out of auditory range, Ratchets fist slammed down onto the table. "I'm sick."

Primes optics went wide. _Please No!_ His CPU squeaked, frantic. _A sick Ratchet is worse then an angry Ironhide._ Ratchet caught the look in Primes optics and snorted. "No, not physically sick you moron. I've been asked several times if I was going to continue the experiments."

Primes gaze became hard. "They asked me as well. I hope they don't ask anyone else, or the entire Ark might hear…"

They fell silent. Red Alert was not particularly loved, well liked, or wanted. But, he was part of the Ark's crew. Not to mention the brunt of most of the twins pranks. Anything that kept the twins from pranking most of them was OK by the Arks standards.

And woe unto the mech that messed with the Ark.

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C'mon, you know you want to review… Well, maybe you don't, but still!


	2. Chapter 2

Last chapter was short, and probably could've been combined with this chapter, but you all know how much I love short chapters…

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Red Alert tossed on his recharge bunk, hearing steps, but trying to convince himself that it was just his glitch. That his glitch was making it all up. It didn't help.

Quickly he onlined his optics, scanning the darkness. He only had time for one strangled "Help!" Before he was knocked back into recharge.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Inferno opened the door, worry clouding his CPU. Ever since the meeting he couldn't shake off the feeling that Red Alert was in some way hurt- He stopped dead at the empty booth. "Prowl, Jazz, anyone in?"

Jazz's voice came over the link. "Whoa, easy their! What's the matter?"

"Red Alert, where's Red Alert?"

"He's not with you?"

"No, I left him for a quick meeting with Prime. I was gone two breems! Now he's gone! Where is he Jazz?" Inferno asked, close to panicking. There was no way Red Alert had gotten through the door. Not without help- Jazz's voice came back,

"I don't see him anywhere on the base."

"Contact Prime and tell him that we got a 'Con on the loose or something, because Red didn't leave willingly." Inferno snarled softly, optics clouded with worry.

"What makes you say that?"

"Something large was dragged here Jazz. And Red is too paranoid to leave the room. Someone had to have dragged him out of here!"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Red Alert onlined slowly, CPU scrambling for a reason why nothing was familiar. Was he back on Lantem? N, he couldn't be. He remembered the screams and Grimlock's roars…

He lifted one hand slowly, placing it up to his helm. A large dent was there. He probed it gently, wincing as his sensors screamed in pain. With a slightly desperate click he tried to online his optics. They refused too. He tried several times, but to no avail. _Very well._

Red Alert quickly rerouted the power that usually went to his optics to his other sensors. Usually his body did it subconsciously, but today seemed to be full of abnormalities. His glitch screamed that he was in the hands of decepticons, however his CPU held onto the slim belief that Inferno was nearby.

His spark ached slightly as it tried to reach out, but Red Alert and Inferno had yet to make the final step that would bond their sparks from across space and time, holding the two together. It couldn't reach Inferno.

Red Alert shivered as he placed an auditory receptor against the door, listening. "Yes, yes, of course he's out right now. Clydesdale has done this many times before, he wouldn't mess up now."

"He does have a glitch. It might bring him into wakefulness earlier."

The other mech laughed at the thought. "That's true, but we destroyed his optics. If he tries to get up he'll crash into something."

Red Alert thought of all of the piled machinery lying about, and sighed in relief. Whoever these two were they didn't know him. He pressed closer to the door, listening anxiously for any news of where he was. "Are we still headed towards Lantem?"

"Yes. Even with the new psychiatrist in charge, and with half of the buildings destroyed, there is still a secret faculty. It has all of the necessary equipment to finish up what Starwave began, and keep us occupied until we can leave for the next planet."

"Where's that?"

"Later, all in good time. As for now, I suppose you want to check up on him?"

Red Alert froze as he realized that he was effectively trapped. He felt a bubble of panic begin to rise, before he decided to do what he had done a lot to get the femmes off his back.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

The mech opened the door, pointing in to the unconscious mech inside. The other mech, nodded, optics considering. "I guess you were right about not needing restraints. Doesn't look like to me he'll be waking up any time soon."

The mech nodded, smiling. "Yes, now, if you'll come with me, we can go ahead and get something to drink perhaps? I know it was a long journey here."

The mech nodded, and the two left the room.

Red Alert reached up to his optics, seeking out how much damage had been done to them. Simply a pulled wire. With a relieved sigh he onlined the optics, and his gaze scanned the room frantically.

It was a large room, or could be if it weren't for the unbelievable amount of junk stuffed inside. Wheeljack's workshop after an explosion looked tidier then this. Red Alert winced at the reminder of Wheeljack. Especially since he still refused to go to the blast room, no matter _what_ the explosions…

Red Alert got off, and cautiously made his way to the door. It slid open, making him fall back a step. A security mech stood their, amazement on his face. "How'd you get up so fast-"

CLANG! Red Alert thanked anything that might be listening that Ratchet aimed only at very vital parts. Otherwise pulling a hatchet on a battlefield would never work.

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No sooner does Red Alert get captured, does he break away, by pulling a Hatchet. It's a good thing he's been paying attention, huh?

Oh, and for those of you who might get confused about the femme part, don't. It's my way of saying, 'crazy-slash-fans'.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry it took me awhile to post this, but I have had a most wonderful day, and I had to get an idea for another oneshot out (I've already posted it up)

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Red Alert wondered how long he had been out, as he stared down at the offlined mech. Then, he shook his head, trying to get his CPU to focus. Now was not the time to spaz out.

Cautiously, wary of any traps, he crept along the hallway. No cameras could be seen, making Red Alert even more nervous. Only small, private ships had no cameras inside. Red Alert paused by each door, listening carefully for the hum of security monitors. He found it at last, and listened to the steady hum as a conversation floated its way through the door.

"What do you suppose is taking him so long?"

"How'd I know? Maybe the prisoner woke up."

There was a derisive hoot of laughter, and Red Alert found himself unreasonably offended. Did they truly think he was _that_ weak? He may be weak compared to the rest of the Ark, but he was one of the crew. Which was compromised only of the best of the best. Any normal 'con could get destroyed by a mech like Bumblebee in two clicks flat.

Red Alert irritably shoved his CPU back on the conversation. What was with him, spacing out while his life was on the line? "We should send someone out to check him." One insisted.

"Very well. You go."

"Fine."

There was the sound of approaching feet, as Red Alert considered his options. He glanced around the hallway, panicking. If he was caught now-

0o0o0o0o0o

Inferno was nearly going out of his CPU. After a week of separation from Red, with no idea what had happened, and after going through those horrid, pain-filled hours of soothing Red Alert, he was not taking any news calmly. Not even the fact that Ratchet had decided that the twins were going to be rebuilt into cameras. They were _supposed_ to be watching for any Decepticons. Not trying to kill each other!

Inferno paced the room, anger bubbling and fizzing inside of him. Just when he had been so close to asking _the_ question as well! He had already gotten an appointment set up with Ratchet and everything!

Blaster sat calmly, fiddling with his dials and knobs. "I've got a faint message." He announced. "It sounds a bit like Red Alert, but static is breaking it up."

"Post it through."

The room became tense as static filled the speakers, and then softly, nearly drowned out by the static came Red Alerts voice. "Prime –bzzt- Lantem –bzzt- faculty hidden on –bzzt- Aw crud, alarm!"

Through the static they could hear the sudden harsh blasting of an alarm, and the sound of doors being forced open. "Anyways, -bzzt-"

Red Alerts message cut off with the abruptness of a knife.

Infernos optics grew wide with fear at what was happening to his mate.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Red Alert gasped for air as two mechs at once sat on him, shaking from surprise. They had not expected the ferocity or the speed of the fight. Red Alert had taken down nearly half the crew until the two of the best they had could finally wrestle him down. Even then, they had been shocked that he could pull down the two who were supposed to be watching without a sound, and with one deft wrench to the head.

Red Alert lay prone beneath them, unable to twitch without causing pain to be pressed upon him. Feet appeared in his view, and he glanced up, optics burning. Then, once he recognized who it was, his optics were twin pools of confusion. "Quarterstar? I thought that you-"

Red Alert broke off with a pained gasp as a foot slammed down onto his helm. Quarterstar looked at him coldly. "You thought? You thought. Because of you I got the chance to be on the Ark taken away! I could have been the one with Prime!"

Red Alert struggled to think beyond the blackness that gathered in his CPU. "I didn't ask for it. I didn't want it!" he protested weakly. "I don't know why. I'm just-"

"A glitch." Came the angry snarl. "But… it looks like your glitch is quiet useful. Did you know that both sides are scrambling to figure out some way to duplicate it?"

Red Alerts optics widened, but he was saved from having to answer as someone injected something into his tubes. Instantly, a heavy, recharge like state fell on him, even as his glitch screeched in fury.

Survival instincts take over all. In his slightly dreamy state, Red Alert didn't notice the pain, as he threw off the two on top of him. He heard a scream, and a couple of yells, but he didn't care as he headed for the nearest target. He was going to kill all of them. Make them sorry that they ever thought about touching him-

Red Alert slumped to the floor just mere centimeters from Quarterstar as the drug at last took its effect and pulled him into recharge.

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Envy is a rather interesting beast, it'll eat up mechs and humans alike whole… Like my brother is going to do when he finds out that I got to shoot a M-16. (giggles helplessly) And I'm pretty good at it as well!


	4. Chapter 4

So… Tired…

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Quarterstar looked at the empty space before him with huge optics. He had never seen Red Alert so… violent before. When they had been double-teaming on a base, Red Alert was more likely to back down then fight, and while he might not exactly run away, he didn't go charging into battles.

Except when his glitch took over, but that had happened very infrequently. Despite rumors, Red Alert was usually in control of himself. He very rarely got into a true temper, and very rarely did he glitch. Quarterstar snorted to himself as he thought bitterly, _If he did glitch nearly all the time, then it would've been a lot easier for me to get into the Ark._

He still wasn't sure why they had chosen Waveshaft as the replacement for Red Alert. True, he had been the closest, and most available when the higher-ups had designed the plan, but they must of realized that a rookie couldn't take care of the most dangerous crew in the galaxy. Or anywhere else. He smirked triumphantly however as he thought, _but, I'm in business now. I'm now the head of security._

The poor bot had no idea what he had just doomed himself into.

0o0o0o0o0o0

The Ark growled angrily, but Prime wasn't about to let them run free. Just because Red Alert was missing, and they wanted _their_ security director back, didn't mean they could badly treat the newbie. "Twins. If you two make him glitch like you did the last one, I'll have Ratchet remodel you. Jazz… follow whatever Prowl orders you to. I don't want to have to pay to send someone else to Lantem."

Quarterstar paused outside of the door, one optic ridge quirked. _If I ever get a lower vote of confidence, I 'd think they were insulting me._ He thought, staring at the door. Grimlock whine, "But he not Red Alert! Me Grimlock want Red Alert!"

"Grimlock, we have to _find_ Red Alert first!" Prime snapped back. Quarterstars optic ridge rose even further. If he didn't know any better, he'd say that Prime was sounding exasperated. But Prime was Prime.

Ironhide grumbled, "Fine, I won't kill him."

"Nor are you to shot nearby him, at him, or anyone nearby him." Came Prowls voice, his voice cool and collected. "Twins, you are not to even _think_ about pranking the newbie. Ratchet… no remodeling him."

"How did you know?"

"Your hand was caressing the welder. We are not _trying_ to deliberately drive him away-"

A disbelieving snort rippled across the Ark's ranks, as various mechs made rude gestures. Prowl continued as if it had never happened, "We are going to welcome him _nicely_ and without complaint. Anyone doing differently will have the privilege of scrubbing out Ironhides rooms."

A gagging sound came from the crew. Ironhide was meticulously neat. Which meant that everything had better be sparkling, shinning, and he should be able to see his reflection in it before you could even think about hitting the halfway mark. "After I go through and dump pond slime in the room." Jazz called out cheerfully.

Quarterstar considered his options; he could either enter now and cut the gagging sound off, or he could wait until they finished.

He settled back to listen. Just as the door slid open to a furious fire truck. "Who are you?" The fire truck snarled, looking Quarterstar up and down.

"I'm Quarterstar. New head of security…"

Quarterstar stopped himself when he saw how the mechs optics narrowed. "Temporarily." He conceded, deciding to put at least one good point in his favor.

It helped the expression lighten up a little. "Come on in then." Infernos head peeked around the corner as he shouted, "Oy, Prime, Prowl, newbies here!"

Quarterstar walked in, optics unwavering upon the one mech that all recognized. He stood stiffly before Prime and saluted sharply. "Quarterstar, reporting for duty!

Prime saluted back, as Prowl judged silently. Jazz nudged Inferno and muttered, "five breems."

"Your on." Inferno muttered back.

The betting pool was on.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

Quarterstar easily took over Red Alerts duties, quickly diving up watch schedule among the crew. Of course, he had no idea who not to stick together…

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Quarterstar watched in amazement as fists flew and insults traded... the twins began simultaneously strangling each other, a sound that pulled Quarterstar out of his amazement. "How do you break them up?" He asked, to the nearest mech.

"Well, Red Alert either summons Ratchet to pull a hatchet, or he breaks it up himself."

Quarterstar couldn't stop the disbelieving snort. "Red Alert, break up a fight? I don't think that's possible. I remember him from earlier bases. He wouldn't stop a fight if his life depended on it."

Several mechs traded looks, thinking of how many times Red Alert had (almost) fearlessly waded into the twins, aerial, dynobot, or Ironhides battles in order to keep the peace. Of course, with the Dynobots, it had been relatively simple. Red Alert simply had to remind Grimlock that whoever the mech may be was hardly up to his standard of fighting, and Grimlock would usually agree-

BOOM! Quarterstar whipped around, optics narrowing. Wheeljack staggered out, looking as if he had just gone through several attacks. "Oh look what I created!"

The twins paused, looking. "It's guaranteed to knock the other mech out!" Wheeljack proclaimed happily, his side lights lighting up happily. "In fact, it's supposed to remodel mechs into a femme-"

Wheeljack brought it up, and accidentally misfired just as Ironhide turned the corner.

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Yeah, no Red Alert angst, just meant to be pointless filler chapter until I can continue on with the _real_ story…


	5. Chapter 5

Ironhide was blasted, and for a few moments he stood there, looking confused. Then a distinctly femme voice asked, "Wheeljack, I think your invention doesn't work."

Wheeljack stared boggled eyed at Ironhide, as the twins stared as well. Other mechs had fallen deadly silent. "No Ironhide, I think it worked just…fine."

"What are you talking about?" Ironhide asked, shifting slightly. There was a gulp from among the Autobot ranks, as slowly each mech began abandoning Wheeljack. No one wanted to be witness to this scene. Except the newbie, but if he wanted to get blasted, then it was hardly their fault. He should of noticed how fast the room was emptyning.

Wheeljack muttered faintly, "You might want to see Ratchet."

Ironhide laughed. "Why should I?"

"Ironhide…" Wheeljack could see no way to avoid the inevatible. "I turned you into a femme."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

_Log in date 1245:_

_Wheeljack was patched up from several large explosions and various near misses from Ironhides cannons. Ironhide was turned back into a proper male, however he feels his reputation has suffered, so has gone off to seek some prey. I had better not get anyone too damaged._

_Log in 1247:_

_Prime, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Jazz, blaster, Grappler, Hoist, and several others have appeared in my bay. I'm going to remodel Ironhide into a cube dispenser if I get one more mech—_

There was a long squiggly line, and a suspiciously long time before Ratchet updated. _I have just created several new femmes._

Quarterstar collapsed into his seat, thinking, _how does Red Alert stand this?_

On the calendar it mocked: Day 1, complete.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Red Alert hissed in anguish as a horridly bright light was shone directly into his optics, despite the fact that they were currently turned off. He contemplated drifting back into recharge, but his glitch refused to let him go.

Blearily he onlined his optics, attempting to shield them from the glare.

Instead he was to badly bound. He was surprised he could twitch, let alone do anything. Slowly his optics scanned the room. For some reason Red Alert felt a sense of peace, and quiet. And for some reason that peaceful state of his refused to go away. No matter what his glitch screamed, it was wrapped in a soft blanket of peace and smothered.

_I wonder if this is what it is like having no glitch?_ Red Alert wondered. The ability to be able to relax, no matter the situation. _I would like to be normal, even if it means that I would have to give up my job._

Footsteps echoed beyond him, and his optics lazily looked. Above him stood a mech he had never seen before. "Who are you?"

"I'm Starwaves sparkmate, Astros. I plan on finishing what my mate now cannot."

Red Alert realized he had never found out what had happened. "By the way, what did happen to Starwave?"

"Ratchet-" The name was spat out like a curse. "Decided to turn him in. He is now in the worst prison possible, along with many of those loyal to him and me. You realize you set our plans back by nearly a whole ten vorns!"

Red Alert found himself uncaring. "You were the ones who asked for me to experiment on. Surely you would've realized that the Ark would figure out what was going on after the time was up."

"You have a lot of confidence that Waveshaft would be unable to handle it. Any particular reason why?"

"I looked over his file. He had never even come close to the more dangerous bases. Neither has Quarterstar. I'll bet you that Quarterstar will crack soon enough as well."

Astros snorted, and shrugged. "Whether he does or doesn't, it's not my concern. I gave him the needed boost, he provided me with the perfect revenge."

Red Alerts drifty state disappeared as a foot slammed into his middle. "I'm going to have fun torturing you."

Red Alert whimpered in pain, curling into a tiny ball. "I'm going to pay you back for every dent inflicted upon my mate." Astors hissed, optics burning. "And then I'm going to add some more.

As Red Alert curled up into a tiny ball, trying to protect himself from the furious blows, he could only think, _They were right. Never, ever make a sparkmate mad._

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Aww, NO! Red! But it's amazing… Quartershaft is cracking a whole lot faster then Waveshaft did…


	6. Chapter 6

Lets see, I left off with Red Alert being tortured. Not too many people liked that, but violence is what makes stories go around unfortunately.

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As soon as Quarterstar left the control booth, where he could no longer monitor the Ark, Prime met with Prowl. "Have you gotten a fix on Red Alert?"

Prowl shook his head. "No. Several others and I are working on it, but the ship he is currently on was a private one. There is no way we can go through all of the private ships in one night."

"You corrected the heading right?"

"Yes, we are now currently speeding back to Lantem as fast as our engines can without alerting anyone that we were speeding up. The twins provided a wonderful distraction."

"Have they unwelded themselves from the ceiling yet?"

"No, this time First Aid refuses to do so."

Prime sighed heavily. "Has Ratchet turned the rest of the mechs back into normal mechs?"

Prowl looked at his femme leader, and barely kept a straight face. "I have no idea. However, if Jazz is any indication, then no."

"What did Jazz do anyways?"

"He brought up the time he shielded Ratchet from Megatrons fusion canon by throwing himself in front of it, and Ratchet decided to remind him why you didn't do that."

Prime winced, and sighed. "I'll be grateful once w have Red Alert back, glitchy, and angry. Maybe then I can finally get a decent recharge."

"Reminds you of when we didn't have him, doesn't it?" Ironhide said softly, from behind Prime. "While I hate to admit it, Red Alert is half of what keeps the peace on the Ark."

"Especially when he has enough blackmail to make even Prime blush in shame, and uses it to his advantage." Inferno said from a nearby room. "But I'm telling you, the second Red Alert gets back, I'm keeping him beside me at _all_ times until I get him to be bonded with me. Even if I have to annoy him into it. But I'm not going through this once again."

A sympathetic look shone in Primes optics as he said, "Don't worry. I believe about half the Ark is willing to chip in their own vacation days for Red Alert."

"Only to get him out of the Ark." Prowl pointed out. "Now excuse me, I'm going have to do double duty tonight."

Jazz sauntered into the room. "Guess what Prowl! I got the Ark agree to behave tonight if we can get a party tomorrow!"

Prowl blinked, opened his mouth to refuse, when Jazz looked at him with huge pleading optics. "It's Bumblebee's creation Day. We can't let him miss out on that."

Prowls mouth snapped shut as the refusal died in his voice capacitor. "Very well Jazz. But the high-grade _must_ be checked, and it _cannot_ be part of Wheeljack's special brew."

Jazz's face fell. "Aww, C'mon Prime! We have a betting pool already set up on how many drinks it'll take to put the newbie under the table."

"No."

Jazz gave up. "Very well."

Prowls optics narrowed. Jazz _never_ gave up this easily. Not unless there was some loop-hole he could still wiggle through.

Jazz smirked satisfied. Because Prowl had said nothing about _Ratchets_ special brew, and it was a hundred times more potent then Wheeljacks.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Red Alert had lost count of the blows, but he still attempted to count, trying to take his CPU off of the pain. _Was that twenty, thirty or a hundred?_ His CPU wondered for a brief click, before he realized that the blows had stopped.

Living with Jazz, Inferno, and the more hotheaded members of the Ark had apparently affected his CPU because he taunted, "Got tired already?"

There was a soft hiss of rage, and Red Alert trembled slightly. _Stupid!_ He screeched at himself. _I just had to go piss him off-_ A beep of a pager broke through his thoughts, and to his intense amusement he saw Astros flush bright red as he moved to answer the pager. "Hello, this is Astros."

A weary voice crackled over the link. "Astros, thank goodness. The Autobots have caught on. They are moving back towards the planet Lantem."

Astros stiffened, hissing, "It can't be! Quarterstar should be making all attempts-"

"I talked to Quarterstar sir. He babbled something about femmes and mad doctors before hanging up muttering about recharge."

Red Alert instantly understood. Ratchet had turned several mechs into femmes. He was glad that he had set his cameras to record while he was gone, for that was one incredible piece of blackmail he didn't want to miss- if he got out of this alive. If not… Well, his will chip had told Inferno the secret code to access any information in the system. Or the clue on the code.

Red Alert had no doubt Inferno could figure it out himself. After all, figuring out ones own name was hardly hard, now was it?

SsSsSsSsSsSsSsSs

I'm sorry Red Alert, but for the good of this fic you must suffer greatly.

Red Alert: Why don't I get to choose these things?

Me: I'm the authoress, so what I say goes-

Prowl stalkes in, desperate for a good recharge." You're going to get him back! Soon!

Me: Maybe. I still have the party don't I? After all, I got everyone hyped up on a party last time, and I didn't quiet manage to pull it off.


	7. Chapter 7

I noticed that in one of my reviews someone asked that Red Alert and Inferno were already bonded. I went back and yes, they are sparkmates, however I'm too lazy too change this, so calmly ignore that fact, and pretend that their not. Established relationship, just not completely bonded yet.

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Ratchet grumbled as he stormed towards Quarterstars quarters. _Keep him busy. Pah, why do I have to keep him busy?_

Bumblebees happy 'Good Morning' died before it began. He took one look and decided that if he said anything he would become dangerously close to becoming a femme. Prime and several others had spent the entire night sucking up to Ratchet enough for him to turn them back into their respective genders. Jazz, the twins, and Ironhide still hadn't quiet gotten there, but Bumblebee had been sure they were close.

Until Ratchet came storming by with a look threatening all mech that unless they were quiet and did as he pleased, when he told them to, wrenches were about to be imbedded in painful parts of them.

Or Arc welders. Or ratchets. Or hammers. Or anything that might come to Ratchets hand.

Ratchet paused in front of the room, thinking over on what he was going to say. The he scrapped it. "Get out here now!" He roared.

All mechs in hearing instantly ran. Whether or not Ratchet wanted to see you, it was best to be safe then sorry. Quarterstar took a little longer however, and it was a full five clicks before the door opened. "Yes, may I- Gack!"

Ratchet seized Quarterstar by an important wire and dragged the mech along, snarling, "Mandatory check up."

The Ark's crew breathed a sigh of relief as Ratchet left, each glad that it wasn't them. "I almost feel sorry for the newbie." One mech muttered.

No one agreed, for actually, nobody could. They were used to Ratchet, and Red Alert should be coming back soon, so the newbie wouldn't have to endure it for too long.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

Red Alert considered his options, which weren't many. After Astros had received the message, he had stalked off, muttering about incompetent fools. Red Alert recycled air heavily, struggling to online his voice capacitor or his optics.

The attempt failed miserably. They had learned from the last time, and now he was trussed up like a turkey, and both his voice and optics were turned off. He could still sense and hear them however, so he kept track of his captors through those two sensors alone.

It was enough. He listened to them chat quietly, and slowly learned more about where he was. Apparently he was on Astros private ship, headed towards a small moon of Lantem. On there was the small faculty, hidden and with the most loyal of all psychiatrists, waiting. All waiting to pull apart his CPU.

And for once he could be comforted with the slight knowledge that for once he _wasn't_ over reacting. Astros had quiet clearly said that he was more then ready to pull apart his CPU. Anything for revenge. Red Alert groaned softly, hydraulics beginning to tense even further as he winced.

He really had to hand it to Astros. Astros's pounding had caused so many dents, that tiny bits of metal had flown off. He currently was using one to saw desperately at the bonds that held him captive. So far the guards hadn't caught on, but Red Alert could feel the bonds beginning to slacken.

He listened and waited quietly, trying to not let his fear show. If they caught him now, their was no chance he could escape to tell anyone what had happened to him. He stiffened, his glitch crashing into him and threatening to sweep him into a realm that was beginning to look tantalizing.

He groaned softly, wondering if he was going have to make a choice. If he glitched, he would probably survive attacking the ship. However, he wouldn't turn it around to head back to the Ark. No, he would probably wouldn't… unless Inferno-

He cut off the thought of his sparkmate, loneliness and fear threatening to crush his spark. He didn't have time; he couldn't afford to allow his emotions to rule- CRUCH!

Red Alert attempted to scream in pain as his hand was crushed brutally. "Trying to escape?"

Red Alert moaned in pain, curling up into a tiny ball, attempting to escape the pain. Astors voice said softly, "Now, now, why would you want to do that? We have a special room prepared for you and everything. In fact-" Real humor colored the mechs voice as he hissed, "We even prepared a special room for Ratchet when he lands on Lantem like he will be doing so tomorrow. Where he can watch his patient being tortured. We might even start experimenting on his sparkmate as well."

Another mech entered, with Red Alert just barely clinging to consciousness. There was a soft murmur, too low for Red Alert to pick it up. Then Astros laughed. "Why, Red Alert, you astound me more and more. I didn't realize you had a sparkmate. You, turn on his voice. I want to find out what the mechs name is."

"I don't have a sparkmate." Red Alert spat, trembling, the second his voice was turned back on.

Astros made a slight sound, and something burned in Red Alerts tubes. He screeched in agony, turning. "Are you so certain Red Alert?"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Astros sat down, reviewing the night over. They hadn't gotten the name of Red Alerts mate from him, and Astros was beginning to doubt Red Alert had one. After all, the batty, paranoid mech was very unlikely to allow anyone close enough to become friends, let alone get a mate. It just didn't make sense.

"No, I made a mistake thinking he actually had a mate, no matter what Arcwelders notes on him were." Astros mused out loud, optics looking off thoughtfully. "If he had a mate, why was he left alone?"

0o0o0o0o0

Inferno cursed himself for leaving Red Alert alone, and unattended. A heavy feeling crept into his spark, as he buried his head in his hands. "Red, I swear I'm going to lock you up as soon as we get you out of this."

Sideswipes head tilted as he listened to Inferno mutter. "Sorry Inferno, we couldn't schedule that empty room quiet fast enough. We thought that once his glitch calm down-"

There was a slight motion, and Grappler snarled, "We're not going to find him. Lantem is a big place, after all."

Infernos optics blazed, as he stood up, with the full intent of killing Grappler. Sunstreaker for once intervened, snapping quickly, "Inferno! Unless you want Ratchet to remodel you as a femme-"

Inferno stifled a chuckle. The twins had finally been turned back, through long orns of desperate pleading. "-I suggest you stop." Sunstreaker finished. "Ratchets been in a particularly foul mood. Nobody _ever_ touches his patients and gets away with it."

Inferno had to heartily agree, but he couldn't help but feel that Starwave was somehow connected to all of this.

SsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsSs

Oh wow, Red, I certainly made you suffer. (grin evily) and I do like the idea of Ratchet actually carrying out his threats. After all, he couldn't bee too big a softie with the twins just waiting for him.


	8. Chapter 8

Quarterstar dropped his datapad with a clatter. "A creation day party? For Bumblebee?" He repeated, feeling as if he had just been told that the planets of the universes were flat, not round. "Why a creation day party?"

"Bumblebee was raised on the Ark." Prowl said patiently. Too patiently. "If we don't, missing member or no, we're likely to have a mutiny on hand."

Quarterstar could feel the ground being yanked from him. The Arks was supposed to be bloodthirsty warriors. Not mechs that wanted to throw _Creation Day_ parties for Primus sake! Especially not when one of their own was supposedly missing. But, he would deal with this. "Very well, I suppose I'll have to look and find some way to work around this."

"Prowl-" Came Jazz's soft voice, "He has to come! I've bribed Seaspray into agreeing to take over the duties."

Prowl looked heavenward for patience. Why was it that when Red Alert left, everything just went down the drain? Tempers would flare, pranks would become nastier, and the mechs would party. "Seaspray has apparently volunteered to take over your duties, so that way you can more fully get to know everyone. By the way, how was Ratchet?"

Quarterstar winced, remembering the furious mech that had dragged him off for a check up. He had only gotten free about 100 nanclicks before, casing him to celebrate the narrow escape.

He hadn't known how much pain wrenches could inflict when aimed at him.

0o0o0o0o0o

Ratchet sipped thoughtfully at the energon cube, staring at some old files that he had dug up. Starwaves picture leered back at him from when they had been in medical school together. He sighed, and scrolled down the pad, looking. Then he stopped dead, dread filling his spark. Astros picture looked at him, optics intensely amused on something only he could see. "Starwaves mate." He muttered. "I completely forgot. What happened to Starwaves mate?"

He stood up to tell Prime, when something landed on the back of his head, and he sank into darkness.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Inferno wandered by the medbay, expecting to hear Ratchet inflicting pain upon whatever unfortunate mech might be getting a tune up. Instead, all he heard was silence and- "Me tell you, Ratchet no here!" Came Swoops near hysterical cry. "Me Swoop leave for breem, and when me Swoop enter, he be gone!"

First Aids voice was trying to rise over the dynobots near hysterical shrieks. "Swoop! Calm down! He probably went to Wheeljack-"

ZOOM! Swoop left to find Ratchet. First Aid groaned, asking the empty room, "Why would someone be after Ratchet? There would be no doctors who would envy his position!"

Inferno left, not thinking twice about it.

0o0o0o0o0

Ratchet woke up slowly, and hissed in surprise. A very battered Red Alert lay before him. One hand was smashed beyond use, and the huge, vicious dents decorating his frame reminded Ratchet of a horror movie he had once seen.

"Red Alert?"

Optics whirled for a moment, attempting to online, when Red Alert gave up. "Yes Ratchet?"

The voice was broken, rough and exhausted. "Where are we?"

"Somewhere on a Astros ship, headed for a small moon off of Lantem where I was told that the rest of the experiments would be carried out and you'd be forced to watch as punishment for sending Starwave into prison." Red Alert muttered. "Keep your voice down Ratchet, the guards will hear you otherwise."

Ratchet was about to say something, when Red Alert shivered slightly, curling into a tighter ball. "Ratchet, one of my hands is useless, but I still have a fragment of one of my horns, that I think you can use to saw through your bonds. Can you reach it?"

Ratchet thanked Primus that his hands were tied in front of him and not behind as he cautiously plucked the piece of metal from Red Alerts hands. "What's happened to you?"

"They found out that I had a sparkmate, or I'd like to have one at least. Haven't taken the final ceremony, or the bonding, but I'm going to lock him up and propose the second I get a chance. Anyways, they wanted to find out who it was, and so far I haven't told them."

Red Alert paused, wincing. Ratchet wondered if the large dents had caused something to crack inside of Red Alert. "And, Astros was determined to pay me dent for dent to what happened to his own mate." Red Alert finished tiredly, attempting to shift into a more comfortable position.

"Right." Ratchet muttered, anger making his optics narrow. "I'm going to tear him apart-"

"No! You have to get a message of f to the Ark, My glitch, its not-"

Red Alert trailed off into incoherent mumbles as Ratchet recognized the danger. If Red Alert glitched, he wouldn't hesitate to shoot the doctor down. The only one who he _might_ hesitate to shoot was Inferno, and if Red Alert glitched bad enough, Ratchet doubted even Inferno could stop him.

Red Alert let off a screech that made several mechs jump in surprise. Ratchet gulped and sawed at his bonds considerably faster. He knew what Red Alert was doing, buying time by caving in to his glitch, but how far he had caved in was another matter completely. If he had caved in too far-

Ratchet pushed the thought out of his mind, and sawed at his bonds, ignored. No one thought a doctor could do anything.

Which brought Ratchets energon to a dangerous boil, especially since he was _the_ Hatchet. No one messed with his patients. Not those who wanted to live anyways.

Ratchet sighed gratefully as the last of the bonds fell off. The room was now nearing full as worried mechs gathered around the snarling Red Alert. Ratchet was completely unprepared for the ferocity at which Red Alert thrashed, and winced as his auditory receptors caught the noise of shifting, rattling, broken bits inside of Red Alert

"Blimey-" Whispered one with a thick, British accent, "How's he doing that? Astros said he damaged him up good."

The one beside him shrugged as Ratchet slipped into the hallways, optics scanning the area. He wondered how he had gotten aboard, and how they had managed to sneak past security. Quarterstar had a good reputation, and had been considered before they had pulled in Red Alert. Best choice Prime had ever made, but Ratchet was seriously beginning to wonder if Red Alerts paranoia that the decepticons were out to get him wasn't right.

After all, look at where Red Alert was now. He had been maneuvered to be placed in the 'Con's hands, and now… Ratchet frowned, wondering which side Astros was on. He paused in front of a door, wondering how he was supposed to tell what was behind it.

He shrugged, and let it open, figuring that at this point it couldn't really matter. Everyone had to be down watching Red Alert glitch. Worry gnawed at the edge of his CPU, along with anger at having to leave behind his patient, but he had to tell Prime where he was, and what information Red Alert had gleaned.

_Even off the Ark he displays the ability to hear half of whats going on, and can guess what the other half is as well. Maybe Jazz should use him as an information gatherer…_ Even as Ratchet thought this, the door slid open to Astros's back, speaking into a phone. "What do you mean you can't stop them?"

There was intelligible noise, and then he asked, "Have they found out about Ratchet yet?"

He listened, and was apparently satisfied, for he nodded. "Good. Keep it that way. Go to their little party, drink, be merry. If they keep at the speed their going they won't be able to catch up with us. Good job, you did your job well."

Astros hung up the phone, and chuckled softly, a sound that brought Ratchets (in)famous temper boiling. "Astros!"

Astros nearly tumbled out of his seat in surprise, face twisting in alarm. "Can they not tie up a single mech properly?" He asked, staring at Ratchet.

Ratchet advanced the table, hands clenching, and optics murderous. "I'm going to tear you apart and use your wires to replace the twins!" he snarled.

Astros blinked confusedly, not knowing he was just given the worse insult in the Ark. To have your body parts used to replace the twins was paramount to being told that you were ugly, glitchy, and stupid. "After that, I'll hand off the rest to Red Alert so he can use you as a camera."

Now Astros face twisted in fury as he realized he was being insulted. "You're going to be the one to regret this." He hissed. "Nobody else knows your missing yet. You're both going to be tortured alone."

Ratchet leaped at Astros, uncaring that he was facing a larger opponent. He had fought _Megatron_ several times with Ironhide trying to protect the fallen Optimus Prime from being killed.

Astros pressed the panic button as he stumbled back, attempting to dodge. Ratchet heard the footsteps coming up the corridor, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Here was one who slandered the profession of being a healer, and made it something to fear. Their was nothing worse in Ratchets optics, that a medic could do.

He forgot about everything else except for the intense need to destroy Astros.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Red Alert glanced at Ratchet, who had both hands smashed beyond recognition. "Get a signal off?"

Ratchet shook his head, optics clouded in pain. "No, ran into Astros on my first try."

Red Alert strangled the soft, scared whimper that threatened to break through.

It was going to be a long day.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Inferno smiled tiredly as a large energon cube was placed before. It was Ratchets special brew. A single cube could make a mech drunk. Quarterstar had no idea however, and was currently chugging it down fast. Prime had gotten drunk, and was currently chasing Bumblebee, yelling, "Elita my only love, come back to me!"

"ARGH!" Bumblebee screeched, "Primes after me!"

Ironhide laghed, drawing Seaspray closer to him as he smirked triumphantly, "I at least got my little Chromia right here."

Seaspray blushed beautifully. That was the main part of the party however, and their was one small corner whereon one was drunk. Well, except for one.

From the way Wheeljack's fins were glowing, Inferno guessed that Wheeljack had not been able to pry his mate out from the office. Not even the twins getting dented drew him out, something that Inferno found slightly odd. After all, Ratchet, no matter what the time, place, or mech would always fix whatever, usually with a great deal of cursing.

Jazz came over to Quarterstars table, casually, cautiously sipping from his own cube, "So, Quarterstar, have you worked with Red Alert before?"

"Oh yesh-" The energon had already made him slur his words. "We was rivals in a couple bases. Both of us wanted to take over. Red Alert won however. He always wins." A frown appeared on the mechs face as Inferno wondered if he would have to listen to jealousy about Red Alerts position.

"That's why I planned something you know." Quarterstar said in a highly confidential tone. "I planned a lot, especially getting rid of Red Alert."

Every mech in the party stiffened, even with the loud music playing. Jazzz's smile became dangerous as he asked, "Did what?"

"Keep it a secret, but I arranged to send Red Alert off to Lantem. The guy also wanted Ratchet-" An angry mutter rippled through the crew. "So, I got them both."

"Where at Lantem?"

"Don't know. Communications link in my room however, should ask so I can dance on Red Alerts remains. Stupid mech, always getting in the way." Quarterstar took another swig, and fell backwards, unconscious.

The crew was completely silent, until First Aid broke it. "I'm going to need a cannon."

SsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsSs

Ok, exciting enough? (giggle)


	9. Chapter 9

Sorry it took so long, but I made sure to get an extra long chapter just for you all!

SsSsSsSsSsSSsSsSsSsSsSsSs

If the crew had been angry before, that was nothing compared to the roaring anger of _now_. Two mechs had been stolen away, and the Arks reputation would never live it down if they didn't get the two back.

Prowl slammed open the door to Quarterstars chambers, Blaster following close behind. "I'll follow it to where I can get it, but I'll need Jazz's help."

"Fine. I'll get Bumblebee and Mirage to help with pulling up the old data. Inferno, go lock Quarterstar up in the brig. I want him safe until we can reach Cybertron to be put into permanent stasis lock."

0o0o0o0o0o0

First Aid swept out the room, having nothing better to do. Ratchet was gone, Wheeljack was shutting himself off from all, Preceptor was…well, Percetor.

He looked across the booths, and had to grin at one really large dent in the middle of one, where Grimlock had nearly crushed Red Alert for saving Ratchets life on the battlefield. Ratchet, on the nearby booth, had nearly turned red from both embarrassment and pride. After all, they were every bit his creations as Wheeljacks.

Red Alert had admitted privately to Ratchet later that it was actually because he had glitched a little in the middle of the battle, and was coming over to take care of his largest knot of enemy. Ratchet had done a quick check, and found that one of the wires had been jiggled loose, thus causing him to glitch.

The sweeping slowed as First Aid considered, not for the first time, what it was like to live in the constant fear that if you got even one wire loose enough you'd start glitching. He knew Ratchets lot was mortally hard, especially when patients slipped away. But to live in constant fear of glitching?

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Red Alert was no longer aware of time, mechs, or anything else. It was as if he was suspended in water, conscious, yet unconscious at the same time. He could distantly hear Ratchets voice telling him to hang on, and not to glitch, but for some odd reason he _wasn't _glitching.

"I'm not glitching Ratchet. I feel perfectly fine."

Ratchet felt his energon run cold at Red Alerts words. _He's too far._ He thought helplessly. _If he breaks down even more he won't realize it, and his spark will be extinguished._

It was a grim prospect to say the least. Ratchet had not spent nearly thirty vorns or more trying to fix a glitch, only to have him die less then three feet away and not being able to do something about it. But, life rarely worked out the way mechs planned. Ratchet knew that.

Red Alerts next words froze the spark mid-pulse. "It's so quiet and dreamy here. I wonder where I am."

_No, no, no, no!_ Ratchets CPU screamed. _He can't be there already!_ "Red Alert, you must come back."

A slight frown.

"Listen to me Red Alert, I know that place seems wonderful, but its not. If you go their you'll never see Inferno again."

A deeper frown, and Red Alerts optics struggled to flicker on. But it was impossible. One lens had been shattered completely. Instead, his one good hand clenched as he said weakly, "I'm not sure I want to go back. It's too painful."

"Of course it's painful, but unless you come back now, you'll never see Inferno again."

Now that was a blatant lie right there. Ratchet knew the chances of Inferno living a long life if Red Alert died was nonexistent. Red Alert had the caution of two mechs, balancing out Infernos impulsiveness usually. Without Red Alert, Inferno was likely to go out on a battlefield and never come out alive.

Astros appeared at that moment, medic behind him. "I thought I told you not to damage him too badly! One medic cried. "We're lucky he's alive-"

Astros wave a single hand, uncaring of what Red Alerts fate was. The medic glared, and ran gentle hands across Red Alerts frame.

Red Alerts glitch struggled briefly to take control, but the dark emptiness of death was already controlling it, and it would allow nothing to usurp its place. Ratchet held his breath as the medic made necessary repairs, and slowly Red Alert tensed more and more, lashing out.

"Good, he's almost fixed. We can start the experiments in another day or so."

"Why another day?"

"Otherwise the residue from the last interrupted experiment will mix with ours and damage the data."

Astros snorted inwardly, but kept his face neutral. He didn't care about the data anymore, and the decepticons could go interface themselves. What he wanted was revenge. But, he had to keep up this neutral face. "Very well, get them out of here. Each to their special room."

Red Alert growled softly, foot slamming into the medics midriff. The medic doubled over, wheezing for breath, and trying to keep him body from shaking too badly, as Red Alert climbed to his feet, still on top of the bunk. _Why didn't he do that before?_ Ratchet wondered, and then he heard the reason why.

Several items snapped inside of Red Alert, causing a loud crunch to enter through the room.

Or maybe that was the sound of Red Alert unerringly throwing himself right on top of Astros.

0o0o0o0o0

Prowl looked at the bloodthirsty crew, and shook his head. "On this small planet off of Lantem, we have located a base. That is where Ratchet and Red Alert should be headed towards. However, we also found a small ship, about three breems ahead of us, headed towards the moon. So we're going to take a slight detour and clean out the ship before heading on to the planet."

"Do we kill them?"

First Aid patted the cannon that Ironhide had lent him. "I'm go straight for Ratchet. If I find him, then I'll let you know. Then you can kill them."

Wheeljack stiffened, optics distant. "He's there. On that ship." He whispered, so softly Grimlock right next to him almost missed it.

Grimlock, however, didn't. "Him Wheeljack say him Ratchet on ship!" he bellowed.

Cannons and weapons, which had been originally set to stun, were flicked on to killing mode. "Wheeljack, I want you to go in on the first wave. Find Ratchet as fast as possible, then cover him while the second and third wave takes care of the other mechs. Now, we must hurry, no doubt we haven't got a lot of time."

0o0o0o0o0o0

CRUNCH! The sound echoed in the room as Red Alert hurtled at Astros chestplate. Ratchet watched, unable to believe that Red Alert had just attacked Astros, when Ratchet couldn't do anything. True, he had been brought down by ten mechs before he could get their, but…

Astros's face twisted in hatred as he snarled, "That's it."

The guard nearby didn't have a chance to protest as Astros snatched out a gun, pointing it at Red Alert. Red Alert held perfectly still, hearing the soft crackle of energy above him and guessing what it was. He had no idea where it was aimed however, so every bit of his body was tense and waiting for the pain that should be coming any moment now.

Ratchet felt Wheeljack mere moments before his angry spark mate burst through the door, a large blaster in hand. Red Alert and Swoop were right after him, closely followed by a worried Inferno. "Red!"

Red Alerts head snapped towards Infernos voice as the gun lifted to swing towards Inferno.

0o0o0o0o0o

Grimlock scowl was dark. He was lost again. How come he kept on getting lost? He had followed Prowls instructions, even giving up the chance of a few mechs in order to do so properly this time. He stood in dinosaur mode, tail lashing agitatedly. Finally he shrugged. He had found the generators last time by smashing through several walls.

There was no reason he couldn't do it again.

0o0o0olo0o0

Astros kept the gun pointed rock hard steady at the newcomers who had come through the door, CPU whirling with a way to get out of this. He hadn't come so far only to be destroyed now darn it all!

Red Alerts head tilted, and Inferno could barely bite back the sob of how horrible Red looked. Ratchet was nearly untouched except for his crushed hands, but Inferno was more then certain that First Aid would be able to fix Ratchet up in no time.

Red Alert lashed out with a single foot, sending Astros to go crashing to the floor, just as Grimlock burst through the wall on the _opposite_ side of the room. Grimlock looked around disappointed, as Inferno and Wheeljack rushed to their respective mates. "Red, are you OK?"

"Do I look OK Inferno?" Red Alert asked, head turning in his direction. "Just so you know, I am not going to agree to one of these things again."

"Did you agree?"

"Apparently, that there is Starwaves bondmate, so if I agreed to Starwave, then I agreed to him." Red Alert muttered.

Inferno ripped through the bonds, asking shakily, "Can you walk?"

"Yes. But I'd prefer not having to." Red Alert muttered. "It hurts-"

Red Alert gave into the blackness that had been eating at his CPU and collapsed limply into Infernos arms.

"RED!"

"Calm down Inferno, he isn't dead, just exhausted. I think he's been awake ever since he's been captured." Ratchet snarled. "Give him a few moments to reboot."

Inferno fretted impatiently, taking in the badly damaged form of Red Alert. "I'm sorry Red." He whispered. "I've got to be the worst protector in the solar system."

Red Alert rebooted at that moment, and Inferno head the soft whirling as he attempted to online his optics. "Red, feeling better?"

"Inferno, could you stop asking such questions?" Red Alert asked, giving up. "According to my scan nobody has fixed anything yet."

Inferno laughed, and turned to Wheeljack, who was just finishing up his report to Prime. "yes, don't worry, we'll make sure hat Astros comes aboard alive."

Wheeljack clicked off the message, scowling, but he brightened up considerably as he looked at Astros. "Of course, I only said alive, and not how badly damaged."

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Prowl looked at the pile of rubble that was supposed to be Astros. First Aid had a mightily satisfied expression, humming gently as he fondled Ironhides cannon gently. "Maybe the twins do have a nice outlet in fighting."

"Tell Ratchet that he should check First Aids programming once he can." Prowl muttered to Jazz. "I think that the pacifist programming was just over run by something else."

Jazz nodded, and looked around the highly satisfied group. "Whew, Red looks awful!" Jazz said, surprise flickering in his optics for a moment.

Inferno brushed by, determined to get Red Alert fixed. Then, the twins said, "Have you asked him yet?"

"Now is hardly the time!" Inferno said, coloring a bright crimson even as Red alert asked a question of his won.

"What question Inferno?"

"Nothing Red. Just wait until you get fixed and then I'll ask."

Red Alert fell silent, allowed himself to be carried bridal style into the medbay.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

A month passed by slowly for all mechs. It was taking that long to find evidence against and sentence Astros to life time in stasis lock, along with Quarterstar. Inferno empathetically refused to leave Red Alert alone the entire time, and Prime found he didn't have the spark to say no.

Both had worked and gone through enough worry that they could cling to each other for just a little bit longer.

0o0o0o0o0o0

On the day that Quarterstar was condemned, Inferno led Red Alert onto a small, out of place restaurant. It was rather nice for the neighborhood, and the energon was exceptionally good. Inferno fidgeted nervously as he and Red Alert small talked about half the night away.

Finally, Inferno couldn't stand it any longer. "R-red?"

Red Alert stopped mid-syllable, looking at Inferno. "Yes Inferno?"

"Well, we've been a long time together." Inferno stammered, turning a bright red slowly.

The Ark's crew, hidden across the restaurant or in Jazz's case, having set the restaurant up for wires, listened in eagerly. "Red Alert, would you do me the honor of bonding with me?" Inferno asked formally.

Red Alerts smile was all the answer Inferno needed.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Jazz held up a victory sign to Prowl. "Guessed right! Told ya he's propose ten minutes before midnight!"

Prowl looked up at the clock. "Jazz, I set that ten minutes early in order to get you out of my office. I believe I won the bet."

Jazz's face fell. "What, but-But!"

Prowl gestured to the bunk. "You're on bottom this time. Now come away from there. I believe you know what's going to happen next."

Jazz's grin was smoky and flirtatious. "Wouldn't I like to be doing it as well!"


End file.
